


An Officer and a Mayor?

by Pizzapig



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Heart Break, Identity, M/M, Romance, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizzapig/pseuds/Pizzapig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All his life Jarvet had never even considered the possibility of love, yet thought he would one day have it for himself, but what happens when his beliefs are tested, what will he decide? Jarvets whole life could change, he just has to say yes.</p><p>Jean Valjean/Jarvet. A lot of angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> Also on fanfiction.net. warning for explicit content, potential character suicide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11121635/1/An-Officer-and-a-Mayor

An Officer and a Mayor?  
By Pizzapig

 

He woke up with a headache and a sour taste in his mouth, an arm was slung carelessly over his chest, the feeling of warm breathe was against his neck. His first thought was one of apprehension, followed by an overwhelming curiosity to open his eyes, a deep dark dread settled in his stomach as he realised who it was. Jarvet recoiled in horror. He had failed once again, sinned terribly against all that was moral and respectable. Truthfully he had no one to blame but his own person, through fault of his own character and a bit too much liquor he had easily became what he so diligently tried to resist. Fighting his way through adversity he had tried to stay on the path of righteousness and godliness, resist all earthy sin god had tested him with, but now he had fallen, fallen into damnation and sin, lured in by carnal lust and immorality; He was hell bound for sure.

Every Wednesday night for the past four months Monsieur Le Maire had made it his weekly habit to hear detailed reports from the head inspector, an obligation both parties were required to partake in for the good of the city. It was a routine operation, Jarvet would transcribe both an oral and written report to the mayor, answer any questions required of him, then leave to attend his duties. As the weeks wore on Jarvet got the sense Monsieur Le Maire did not care for him very much, rushing through the reports to end the transaction as soon as possible, making excuses to hurry the inspector out of his office. This type of dismissal was not a new phenomenon to Jarvet, he often evoked the feeling of animosity in many a new acquaintances throughout his life; he was not one to easily make friends. Growing up in desuetude he had learned early the only one he could rely on was himself, and the firm hand of the law.

 

It was not until Jarvet saved Monsieur le Maires life, unearthing an assassin hiding within his own house that Monsieur le Maires and the inspector began to warm up to each other. Even going as far to say Monsieur le Maire had made an effort to be hospitable to the inspector, inviting him to stay after his weekly report instead of rushing him out the door as per usual. Sitting down and conversing with the mayor Jarvet got the strangest feeling that he had known the mayor for years, the conversation flowed easily between them, an easy familiarity warming the room. The weeks passed, and Monsieur le Maire would present the same invitation to the inspector each week, and Jarvet would of course graciously accept, taking his assigned seat by the hearth. Often if fancy struck they would find themselves debating late into the night, arguing over the current social issue, other times they just didn't say anything at all, content to just enjoy the company of another lonely heart. At home within his private vocation Jarvet had started to imagine he sensed within the other man a common soul, an understanding ear, and above all a friend. 

 

It was a particularly lonely and cold Wednesday night that Jarvet found himself late arriving to Monsieur Le Maire office, soaked through to the bone and violently shivering as he dripped all over Monsieur Le Maires wooden floor.  
“This will not do.” Said Madeline.  
Jarvets heart froze as he stood in the hallway dripping ice, prepared to be turned away, feeling shame at his less then presentable appearance.  
“You’ll catch your death in those clothes, have sense man, I did not expect for you to come to me in such a blizzard.”  
“My first duty is to the law.”  
Madeline shook his head in amazement, he could not decide if the man was half mad or admirably committed to his duties, although it did ease his mind to imagine the later, though he did suspect the former. Madeline coerced Jarvet into his house where he commanded him to change into his own dry clothes, comfortably setting himself up by the fire, he ordered some warming brandy, politely waiting until Jarvet soon followed, dry, and limping slightly, he took up his usual seat.  
“Drink?” asked Madeline pouring himself a generous amount.  
“No.” Said Jarvet, he refused to indulge in such vices after seeing the ruin and destitution they would eventually cause.

It was not long before they fell into a familiar and easy debate on the philosophical underpinnings of the law. Intending to make a particular statement Jarvet stood up, forgetting his injury and wincing in pain as he put weight on his foot. Madeline hurried over, helping Jarvet back into his seat and examined his injury, Jarvet hissed in pain as the man’s finger probed the sore joint.  
“You need rest, and relaxation,” said Madeline. “or you may damage it further.”  
“That’s your professional opinion then.”  
“As Mayor yes.”  
“Remind me again when you acquired a doctorate.”  
“It was around the time when you acquired a diploma in being an asshole.”  
“I may have an injured ankle but I can still take you Madeline.”  
“I would like to see you try Inspector.” He said voice gong husky, and leaning in too close. Madeline stopped inches from Jarvet, and it was the other man who breached the gap, tightly gripping onto each other, they kissed hungrily and messily, with a desperate need for comfort, as if they had been wandering the dessert for years, thirsty and alone, and had finally been given water and civilization.  
“I want you now.” Said Madeline, and like that Jarvet was lost.

 

Jarvet lightly touched his lips in wonder as he remembered the pleasurable feeling of forbidden sin, greedily taken with no apologies. A night that would have him condemned beneath the lords eyes upon his judgement day, yet he couldn't even summon up anything close to regret, sinking once again into lustful memories. 

 

It was far too easy to progress their way to the bedroom, hot and heavy pressed up against each other, flesh against flesh, cries of joy and overwhelming sensation. Intimately entwined Jarvets souls was bared raw, scared and wounded for Madeline to see, it was almost more than Jaret could bear. Yet Madeline did not shy away, offering up his own battered soul just as freely. A beautiful and terrible truth, one and the same, they were equals. Opposite to anything Jarvet had ever known he had no foundation to guide him, no point of reference, just a secret Eden, and a terrible truth. The orphan child within him cried, he could at last rest, lay his heavy heart down, he had found his home he had longing for his whole life. 

 

The rising sun broke Jarvet from his musings, a reflection flashed across his vision, impairing his sight and catching his eye. Shadowing his eyes Jarvet reached for the object in question, the familiar shape felt heavy in his hand, burning his skin, turning it over in his rough hands a deep shame built within Jarvet. The object was cheap, dented, and crafted from rejected metal scraps, a holy divinity of symbolism, warm within his tightly closed fist, the sharp edges cut into his hand. A tiny drop of blood ran down his arm staining the pristine white sheets below. His salvation came through a set of hands, gently resting on his own, relaxing his grip he let the object softly fall onto the bed sheets, revealing a simple silver cross painted against the white backdrop. The man reached out to comfort him and Jarvet recoiled in horror as if he had been burnt. A feeling of deep shame assaulted his senses, and he leapt out of bed, backing up as far as his legs would carry him, and crumpling into a boneless pile before he even reached the door. The shock of his failings overcame his body, and he dry heaved, vomiting the contents of his stomach onto the floor. The urge he had worked for so long to repress and deny, ruined in a night of carelessness abandonment. He was no better than the sultry prostitutes lining the gutter, immoral and destitute, their basic urges controlled their lives, hand in hand with the devil himself, blackened souls willingly condemned to hell for the next fix to ease their animalistic urges. 

 

“Jarvet?” The sinful voice called, a worried crease upon the demon brow.  
His silence spoke volumes.  
“Jarvet. Please come back to bed, you’re as pale as death.”  
He refused to meet the sirens gaze, for sure one look upon the beautiful medusa would turn his mind to stone, a frozen slave to the demon to do with him as he will. What a cruel test, for sure God intended him to fail. The siren got out of bed, kneeling beside him he was forced to meet his gaze, and as the sun is revealed from behind the clouds the demonic guise was removed, standing before him was once again no more than a man. His sinful fingers ran along his jaw, softly meeting his lips, to which his accursed body urged him forward, leaning into the touch he so desperately craved, so long denied himself. Their lip met in a desperate craving full of desire, pleasure, and freedom, a sweet release from earthy chains and burdens. Madeline let out a sinuous groan, full of desire and longing, tasting, feeling and touching any bare skin he could reach, exploring, and memorising every inch of his body. Jarvet was all too happy to comply, lost in sensation and touch, eager and ready for more Madeline made his way along the mans necks, kissing, deep dark bruises, marking his claim upon flesh, working his way slowly, every inch of his flesh captured his dutiful attention.  
“Come back to bed Jarvet.” Madeline said, low and husky. Jarvet did not have it within himself to refuse as he locked eyes, his own cold green eyes upon clouded brown. Taking the mans hand within his own he promised himself this time would be the last, even then he knew he was lying. His accursed memory couldn’t rub clean the fact it was him who had insinuated the kiss the night before, who had encouraged the eager Monsieur Le Maires advances, and was now gladly following back to bed.

Naked upon the bed Jarvet drew the Monsieur Le Maire towards him, running his hands over the mans form, a pleasure he had denied himself for so long. Gently gazing upon his lovers form through half lidded eyes, the rising sun illuminated the beautiful, rough man, lit up within from a light all his own, and in that moment Jarvet could not believe a more perfect moment could exist. With a hypnotic reverence Jarvet reached to remove Madeline’s undershirt that he had missed the night before, but was stopped by firm hands.  
“I only have one request, it is that you leave my undershirt on.”  
“You have nothing to be ashamed of with me.”  
“All the same, I politely ask to keep it on.”  
“If that’s what you desire, I shall honor it.”  
“Thank you” said Madeline wrapping his arms around the man and kissing him, a hot fiery kiss igniting a strong passion. Jarvet longed, he ached for Madeline, his enthusiasm showed itself in the best way, pressing against Madeline, encouraging the man in his efforts. Madeline ravished his mouth, his pupils dilated and blown wide with passion he made his way south, taking time with every part of him, treasuring him as only a lover could. He kissed his chest pressing small soft kisses against his skin, his warm breathe flush against his skin, paying particular attention to his nipples, using his tongue in the most sinful of ways till they were firm and hard. Jarvet let out a groan of pleasure, an uncomfortable pressure building in his groin, Jarvet urged Madeline on to give him the sweet relief he so desperately craved. 

Half-wrecked Madeline licked a long stripe up Jarvets half-cocked penis, working his way around the sensitive tip with his tongue, teasingly working Jarvet into a frenzy, until he was fully erect and pre-cum was leaking from the tip of his cock. Jarvet whined as Madeline put his lips to use. Madeline smiled devilishly around his cock, starting to speed up, he set a firm, and unrelenting pace, holding down Jarvet’s hips as he bucked. Moaning loudly Jarvet tightly clutched the bed linen, digging his nails in he tore the lavish material, he couldn’t help but emit the loud noises of pleasure as Madeline put all his years of practice to work, taking him down to the base, and bobbing up again, repeating the motion again and again till the pressure built and built. Jarvet could not take it any longer, the feeling of a warm mouth, the unrelenting pace, he came, mind-numbingly hard, the salty substance running down Madelines throat. Madeline took in all he could before he pulled back, kissing Jarvet roughly on the mouth, and exhaustively falling beside him on the bed, reaching out Madeline held Jarvet in his arms. The two weary men side by side watched the climbing sun light up the dark morning sky, blissful and content for the first time in his life Jarvet really wished he didn’t have to go on duty in a manner of hours.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter 2

Wednesday had rolled around like usual, but to Jarvet the wait was unbearable, insufferable upon his usually patient disposition. Often times throughout the week Jarvet had found himself getting distracted like a young school boy, his mind replaying particular imagery to distract his body at the most unseemly of times, his officers had started to whisper about his usual stoic manner taking on a sudden change. Jarvet was twice as strict upon the juniors to make up for it, and they soon quieted their dishwasher tongues. Jarvet threw himself into his work with a valiant zeal, determined to rid his mind of unseemly thoughts, and redirect it into more respectable direction, unfortunately it failed to be effective.

The clock chimed 9, and Jarvet found himself located outside the front of Monsieur Le Maire’s residence, it was just one of his many duties he told himself, he would make the report then leave, he wouldn’t linger for an hour more than required. Jarvet raised his arm, wiping the sweat that had gathered upon his brow and hesitantly knocked upon Monsieur Le Maire door. No answer. He knocked again - nothing. Doubt began to creep in Jarvets mind when he was not immediately received, yet he still had a duty to fulfil and could not turn away now like a cowardly mouse, a third time he knocked, significantly louder, rat-tap-tap upon the solid oaken doors.  
“Jarvet, welcome, my apologies for my delay, I was discussing a matter of importance with the house keeper and did not hear your knock.”  
Jarvet nodded, undoing his overcoat and removing his hat. His observant gaze was drawn to the mayor who had his hand wrapped in bandages.   
“You have sustained an injury?”  
“Yes.” Said Madeline shiftily, “I burnt it on the fire as I was moving the embers, do not concern yourself, it is small and healing nicely.”  
Jarvet could tell the mayor was lying, but knowing what was best for him he let the matter drop.  
“Shall we proceed?” said Jarvet noticing that Madeline had now directed his gaze elsewhere and was now openly staring at his figure. Monsieur Le Maire blushed slightly, ducking his head and leading the way.  
Standing in his usual spot Jarvet quickly recounted his report and got ready to take his leave, making his flimsy excuses as he excused himself, and headed over to the door, only to feel the tug of his sleeve as Madeline grabbed his wrist.  
“Jarvet wait.”  
Emotions hidden away deep beneath the recesses of his small swirling heart he turned, feeling the mayor’s greedy stare upon his person. His long fingers gripping his wrist, a deep penetrating gaze seeing into his soul.  
“Monsieur Le Maire.”  
“Yes.” He said advancing, placing his hands confidently upon his waistcoat.  
“I cannot stay, I must go attend….” excuses died in his throat as Madeline pushed him up against the door and placed his mouth upon his throat, sucking and bitting till he left a mark, kissing all along his neck the Mayor removed his waistcoat, running his warm hands upon his form. Jarvet’s heart raced so fast he feared it would leave his chest, his breath became ragged as the man’s scent overwhelmed his senses, a strong masculine scent comprised of sunshine, fresh country air, home cooking, and the sharp earthen smell of fresh pinewood. He became lost in the addictive scent, the warm embrace of his lover, the intense sensation and feeling of being roughly but affectionately kissed.

 

“Tell me what happened to your hand.” Said Jarvet laying side by side with the Mayor, and gently holding the injured extremity in question. Madeline quickly grabbed his hand back, turning away from Jarvet and quickly sitting up, turning away from him. Jarvet sighed, sitting up, gaining the man’s attention by resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  
“You do not have to divulge your secrets to me if you do not wish, but I would like to think you know me other enough to place some trust in me that I would never betray your confidence.”  
Madeline was silent for a while, until he decided to talk, a secret serious tone.  
“I do not know what I am doing, here with you. It may well be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, it had to be you of course, it shouldn’t be, but all the same, it was you. The power you hold over me, you could ruin me completely with a mere word upon your lips.”  
“You can trust me Madeline.”   
“If you only knew what type of man you hold in your bed, you would not so easily say that to me.”  
Jarvet moved until he was facing Madeline, and kissed him reassuring him. “You’re a good man, that I know for sure Madeline, I could not allow you to kiss me otherwise.”  
Madeline frowned, looking doubtful. Jarvet kissed him again, smoothing out the frown lines until they were both smiling once again.  
“If you ever feel like hurting yourself again, please try talking to me first.” Said Jarvet “I may not be the most congenial man, but I’m here to listen if you need me to.”  
“Next time I have the urge to punch a mirror I’ll send for you.” Said Madeline smiling and kissing Jarvet once again.

 

Summer turned into spring, and their affair continued on. By winter it could no longer be denied that their nights were insinuated by mere desire and nothing more. A storm had been raging between them with a ferocity unmatched, and it was only gaining strength as the weeks wore on, endearments pressed against skin grew with intensity, and they began to know each other better, both physically and personally. When not righting the scales of justice Jarvets time was spent counting down the days between each Wednesday and the next, a pathetically maddening exercise which both kept the longing at bay, and increased the loneliness tenfold. It was a long held agreement made between them, any more time together would surely arouse suspicion from the town’s people, risking both reputation and livelihood if anyone would be made aware of their weekly activities. So they longed, waited, and pined, turning frustration into heated passion every Wednesday night, a familiar drug neither Jarvet nor Madeline could stop themselves from returning to.

 

Wednesday arrived, as it had arrived every week for the last year, and Jarvet once again walked the well-traveled path to Madeline house, confidently entering the dwelling, he fell easily into Madelines arms.   
“I love you.” The man admitted so freely, unexpectedly, cradling Jarvet tight in his arms.  
Jarvet froze. No one, not even his own mother had ever said such adoring words to him. He was a man broken and ruined beneath a great admittance, his mouth was agape like a common witless fool, no words would enter his mind other than “run”; he could not return the sediment so easily given by the other.   
“I must go.” He said calmly, emotionlessly, discrepant to the storm raging within his mind. With minimal resistance he broke free from Madeline’s strong grip, and dressed quickly, lacing up his boots, and finally pulling on his overcoat.  
“Stay, Please.”   
Jarvet gave him a last lingering reluctant look before taking his leave. This devil of a man may well be his undoing.

 

For the next week and a half Jarvet avoided the mayor like a drunkard avoids his debt collector, even going as far as to send a junior in his place to make his weekly report to the mayor. Jarvet had accepted long ago that he was incapable of such emotions as love, it was not like he hadn’t tried with girls, trying to find an acceptable wife to settle down with, he just didn’t know how. He had been told countless times by many different people he was heartless, incapable of love, and being loved in return. He undoubtedly believed what they said, who could ever love him? Sediment was a weakness he didn’t care to have. Love was impermanent, and fading, only out to cause heartbreak and ruin. Love was what left you crying on the streets to fend for yourself, crying in the gutter for a mother you never had. He would end it with Madeline he decided, that way no one would get hurt once Madeline eventually realised he was unworthy of such affections. A hollow feeling swirled within his stomach, his heart ached with the thought, yet he knew it was the best decision, best to let Madeline go now, lest he hate him forever, despise him for ignorantly tying himself to a man such as he.


	3. Chapter III

Chapter 3

In his career Jarvet had seen many miraculous impossibilities but none such as this. A careless accident that may well have cost the man his life, or worse livelihood, was easily avoided. Out of breathe Jarvet was on the scene, but too late it seemed, Monsieur le Maire was already there. Jarvet conspicuously watched as with little effort Monsieur Le Maire released the doomed man from his terrible fate, lifting the heavy cart upon his shoulders, and returned him to opportunity. Jaret gazed upon the scene with wondrous disbelief, for a man that age it should be impossible to free the unfortunate soul. The clouds moved away from the sun, and a sharp feeling of horror ran through Jarvet, a memory stirred within him, a link was made between the strength of Monsieur Le Maire, and a prisoner of so long ago. A prisoner who escaped his parole.  
“It cannot be the same man. For sure.” He cried out stunned to his very core that his mind would betray him this way. Yet he could not ignore the niggling thought, what if he was wrong? _What if he was right?_ He had a sworn duty to do.

 

Later that night Jarvet could not rest, his guilty conscious urged him forward, duty called to him, urged, insisted, and would not quiet till he penned a letter to his superiors in Paris, the doom gates closing fast.  
URGENT he wrote upon the note, ordering the messenger boy forward with haste. 

 

That same week Jarvet was called upon a scene where a prostitute had attacked a young gentlemen. Ready to prosecute, to do his duty, he raised his baton, halting only when Monsieur le Maire stepped in, saving her life from a life imprisoned within a hapless cell. Jarvet frowned, this was not the way a convict would act, to save the lie of a stranger, doubt began to swirl within his mind. Jarvet was secretly glad Monsieur Le Maire had not had time to pause to converse with him, lest he chance a glance at the storm raging within his mind.

After many a day of pacing around his office, and nights filled with unrest and anxiety, nightmares, and little sleep, his heavy heart was relieved. He almost tore the poor boys arm off grabbing the letters and ripping them open.  
“Requested for information.  
Subject: Prisoner 24610.  
Prisoner 24610 in question was found January 4th 1823 hiding in a dwelling far from this town. Sentencing and Trial is to be held shortly. No further investigation required.  
Signed  
Pierre Moreau  
Chief of police.”  
An enormous sense of relief coursed through Jarvets body, he felt lighter, a heavy weight dropping from his shoulder, he had never felt so relieved at being wrong in his life. After the initial relief had faded, a churning guilt built up within him, enveloping him whole and dragging him down, he was disgraced with the very thought of his actions, he must right this wrong as soon as possible.

The next day Jarvet was invited to confirm the prisoner was in fact Jean Valjean, taking one look at the convicts face he immediately knew it was 24601. Any lingering doubt that he held about Monsieur Le Maire was immediately dissipated, the man in front of him was unquestionably the convict 24610. 

Throughout his time with Madeline Jarvet had come to accept his preferences, the initial panic no longer there, rather a comforting familiarity that soothed away any thought of sin, he had come to realise he could accept lying with a man, but one thing Jarvet could never agree with was bedding a con. Returning to his office Jarvet felt a sense of disappointment in his self and his abilities, he had let his personal feelings corrupt his duty, condemning a good man to slander, because he was afraid, he was afraid of what Madeline had admitted, he had been so afraid he had tried to destroy him.  
“What have I done” said Jarvet grabbing his hat and running out of his office.

With a determination in his stride the inspector followed a long familiar path to the house of Monsieur Le Maire, knocking on the door thrice with impatience.  
“Inspector.” Said the mayor with formality, and an underlying joy, the man could not be more obvious to their secret ploy if he tried.  
Jarvet dragged the man inside, carefully checking for unexpected late night guests before leading the man to the sitting room.  
“What is the matter Jarvet?” Asked Madeline with concern. Jarvet remained quiet, gathering his thoughts, trying to find the best way to express his transgression.  
“This is the matter, a culpable act has been committed.”  
“What act?” Said Madeline adopting a serious manner.  
“An inferior agent of authorities has failed in respect, and acted upon the gravest of manners towards a magistrate. I have come to bring the act to your knowledge as it is my duty to do so.”  
“Who is the agent?” asked Madeline.  
“I” admitted Jarvet.  
“You?” Said Madeline with doubt.  
“I”  
“And who is this magistrate who has reason to complain of this agent?”  
“You. Monsieur Le Maire.”  
Madeline sat up straighter in his armchair, leaning forward as Jarvet elaborated, his gaze cast downwards in a solemn manner.  
“Monsieur Le Maire I have come to ask that you instigate the authorities to dismiss me.”  
Madeline opened his mouth in amazement, ready to denounce Jarvet, but Jarvet interrupted him.  
“You will say that I have handed in my resignation, but that will not be enough, handing in ones resignation is honourable, I have failed, I ought to be punished, I must be turned out.”  
“Come now.” Scoffed Madeline “What nonsense is this? What is the meaning of this? What culpable act could you have possibly been guilty of towards me? What are your wrongs of in ere to me? You accuse yourself, you wish to be superseded-  
“Turned out.” Interrupted Jarvet.  
“Turned out then. Yet still, I do not understand.”  
“You shall understand Monsieur le Maire.” Jarvet sighed sadly “Three weeks ago, I informed against you.”  
“Informed against me?”  
“At the prefecture of police In Paris.”  
Madeline burst out laughing, “As a mayor who has impeached on a police officer I take it? I’m sorry if my declaration offended you that much.”  
“As an ex-convict.”  
In a second it was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, and an angry colour spread on the mayors face, Jarvet still refused to look up.  
“I was confused, I had an idea in my head I could not shake, the strength you had, a certain resemblance—I hardly know what I was thinking—but I mistook you for a x-convict, 2460-, Jean Valjean.”  
“A convict? What did you say his name was again?”  
“Jean Valjean, I was guard at Toulon 20 years ago, where I was in charge of overseeing a group of men, including Jean Valjean. Upon release, Jean Valjean, robbed a bishop, then committed another theft upon a highway, accompanied with violence. He disappeared 8 years ago, no one knows how, and has been sought ever since. I fancied I had found this long missing convict, and brought him to justice, I did this thing which impelled me, I denounced you.”  
Madeline had a carefully controlled manner about him, a deep contemplation, as if he was defusing a bomb and any wrong step would set it off. “And which reply did you get?”  
“That the man had already been captured.”  
“You are sure this is the man you seek?”  
“Sure? I saw him with my own eyes, it is Jean Valjean. Having gazed upon his face, I do not know how I could have thought you and him were one in the same, I beg your pardon Monsieur le Maire.”  
“What does this man say?”  
“He denies that he is Jean Valjean, as to be expected, but I am to give my testimonial, and he is sure to be hanged for his many crimes.”  
“When is the trial to be held?”  
“Morrow, I am to set out.”  
“Thank you, you may leave now.”  
“Monsieur le Maire you are forgetting, I am to be dismissed.”  
“Jarvet you are a man of honour, you exaggerate your fault, being that the case concerns me, and the nature of our relationship, yet you still reported me, you deserve a promotion, not a degradation, I wish you to remain at your post.”  
For the first time that evening Jarvet looked up, anguish clear within his gaze.  
“Monsieur Le Maire I cannot allow you to do that. I have wronged you, through fault of my own, this was not justice, but my own personal feelings getting in the way of duty. I have dragged an innocent, honourable man through the mud of slander, I can no longer do my duty. I repeat my request for dismissal.”  
“What are you afraid of Jarvet?”  
After a while of uncomfortable silence Jarvet relented “I grew up in a prison, was released onto the streets to defend for myself, after arduous work I joined the police force. My life has not been easy, I have no family to call my own, no one has ever spared me a second thought, regarded me in such a way as you have. I admit it! I was overwhelmed; and scared; I still am as I stand before you so. This marred my judgement, causing me to act irrationally and lash out. I apologise, for all I have done, and insist you dismiss me.”  
Jean Valjean stood there for a moment in disbelief, then laughed heartedly, wrapping his arms around the inspector and kissing the man.  
“I may be a fool, but I cannot help it, I love you Jarvet, and I will keep repeating it till your ears bleed from the repeated mention of the words.”  
Jarvet froze again.  
“It is okay, you do not have to say it back dearest. I’ll be here when you’re ready.” Madeline kissed him again till they were both out of breathe.  
“Now I have a quiet a few things to do tonight love, so I unfortunately have to ask you to take you leave.”  
Jarvet nodded still in shock. “I will continue to serve till I am superseded.”


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter 3  
Jarvet stood frozen in disbelief as the mayor entered the courtroom, quiet distressed and calling attention to himself before he uttered words that damned them all.  
“Stop, this man is no guilty than you your honour, for I am 24610.”   
“I do not believe it, this man has lost his sanity.” Remarked Jarvet shocked at this confession.  
Monsieur Le Maire unbuttoned his over coat removing his waistcoat and his under shirt in one smooth motion, letting the article that had so long hidden his shame fall to the floor. There branded upon his skin for the world to see was the tell-tale mark, TF, travaux forcés for forced hard labour, the mark of the Toulon convict.  
Time lost all meaning. Colour drained from Jarvets face, he lost all sensation, and all anchor to the earthly realm. It was as if he was witnessing the scene from above, he was within purgatory, and this was his punishment. The gavel of the judge shocked his senses enough to be brought back to earth. The noise of the courtroom came rushing back all at once and he felt quiet faint. He was a fool, a tool used by a devil, a gullible idiot! Never again will he be so foolish.  
“You’ll know where to find me.” Jarvet caught the Devil’s last parting words before he left the courtroom, un-harassed by uncertain hands all looking towards his own person for direction. The pressure of the court drew him to action, with hard difficulty he turned away from his own feelings and emotions on the matter, and buried himself in the law. He could no longer so foolishly engage in the notion he was of ordinary men, never again would he be fooled into believing so. He was inspector Jarvet, the law was his only guiding principle, it had never failed him before, guiding him from the life of desuetude to righteousness, and was sure to prevail now.   
“Stop gawking men! After the guilty convict, he has confessed, and you are letting him get away.”   
“Inspector he is the mayor.” said a Junior officer naively.  
“No man is above the law, not even a mayor.”  
It was his duty, and he was going to fulfil it personally. He would bring the convict to justice, balance the scales of justice once again. 

 

Later that night after a futile search he was unable to sleep, the inspector set his sights to the law, travelling down the most corrupt and dangerous streets, he turfed up any ruffian who got in his way, a too close call with a beggar earned his a gash in his side. It took him a moment of careful consideration before he went to the hospital, and then it was only after a fellow police officer urged him to, escorting him personally to the building of healing. Whilst being bandaged up, he overheard word the mayor was here. News had yet to spread of the mayors crazed confession, but it was only a manner of time in a small town such as Montreuil-sur-Mer. Tired and weary Jarvets feet seemed to make their way up the stairs by themselves.   
“He is a criminal.” he put all his belief into that one known fact, focusing his attention on who that man once was, and the crimes he had committed.  
Reaching the top of the tower he placed his hand upon his weapon. He entered the room, and Monsieur le Maire, no, Jean Valjean, turned from the bed of a local prostitute, a deep sadness within his eyes. The only explanation Jarvet concluded was that he was involved with the prostitute.   
“Before you say a word Javert, Listen to me! There is something I must do. This woman leaves behind a suffering child. There is none but me who can intercede - In mercy's name, forget the transgressions of the past, and start anew with me. We shall attend to this child, and leave tonight, go where no one knows our name.” 

Javert drew his sword and aimed it at Valjean. Another trick from this devil, so in consorting with this woman, he had fathered a child, (if there was a child). He would take no part in this rouse to earn the prisoner his freedom, he would not let the convict deceive him again, and lead him from the path of righteousness.   
“You must think me mad! I’ve hunted you across all these years, men like you never change. Men like you can never change! I will not be fooled by your trickery, you shall give yourself up to the law for your crimes convict.”   
A grief was in 24610’s eyes that confused Jarvet, a grief he could not explain away by easy words, looking away from the mans face, he ignored the pained look upon the convicts face, banishing his sword about in warning.  
“There is a duty that I'm sworn to do. You know nothing of my past- All I did was steal some bread to feed my sisters child, you know nothing of me Jarvet.”   
“Dare you talk to me of crime, the price you had to pay. Every man is born in sin; Every man must choose his way! My duty is to the law. Come with me, and you shall be returned where you belong.” Jarvet said drawing the sword and aiming it at the convicts throat.  
“You would sooner see me dead. But not before I see this justice done!” He said with a sudden sad realisation, breaking a rafter from the roof and banishing it as a weapon.  
“Men like you can never change. Men like you can never change!” Proclaimed Jarvet convincing himself of it without a doubt. The prisoner was sinful scum, and he deserved no mercy, Jarvet swung his sword, only to be parried with the rafter beam. Jarvet stood eye to eye with the x-con, a silent sizing of capability, assured in what he had conceptualized about the man, Jarvet moved quickly striking out and inflicting a flurry of blows on the man, to which was equally parried. In their fight they had maneuvered themselves outside onto a ledge, yet neither man was able to strike even a glancing blow upon the others flesh. 

“I am warning you, Javert, I'm a stronger man by far! There is power in me yet! My race is not yet run!” he said urging Jarvet to give up his position. With a furious blow Jarvet disarmed the miscreant, wood cluttering unto the ledge in defeat. His sword aimed at 24601’s heart Jarvet backed him further along the sturdy ledge. The dark sea swirled beneath their feet like a hungry mouth, calling desperately to devour their souls within its perilous depths.   
“You are defeated, surrender and no harm shall befall you.”   
24601 gave Jarvet a lingering look of regret before jumping off the ledge and into the sea below. Jarvet froze in shock. His eyes were permanently glued to the deep dark sea below, his heart ached, and he secretly prayed the man below would arise. A quiet relief encompassed him as he at last spotted a lone figure surface, swimming fast and strong in the distance. 

Jarvet stood there for a time watching the lone man, struggling, determinate to escape the dark swirling mass that surrounded him, until at last he accomplished the impossible and dragged himself ashore. A secret complicated mess of emotion swirled within Jarvets heart as the dark sea released Jean Valjean from its grasp, a churning of relief, love, duty, hurt, and self-loathing. Jean Valjean disappeared from sight engulfed into the darkness of land. The deep dark sea below called to Jarvet, a budding dark thought swirled within his mind, what would it be to end his misery? Fooled so easily, a huge failing, what type of man was he? His heart bled crimson hurt, an invisible wound hidden within his soul. He had failed.   
“Inspector.” Called a voice from inside breaking him out of revere.   
Inspector! What right had he to hold that title? Dishonored! He did not deserve such a prestigious honour. He had failed. Never again must he be so foolish, to bring such shame on himself and his title. If not for the wrong he had to set right he would resign then and now. Instead he set his focus on an old task, locking his heart away forever more, he was going to bring 24610 to justice at last. Jarvet leaped down from the ledge, straightening his uniform and heading the call of duty.   
“Wherever you may hide.” He vowed “I will be there.”


	5. Chapter V

Chapter 5

With few threats Jarvet gained access to Fanine’s quarters, and procured one of her letters reading the return address he found the whereabouts of the child Jean Valjean had mentioned. Surprisingly Jarvet found that the convict had been telling the truth, the prostitute had a child, a product of an absent father, and not Jean Valjeans spawn as he had previously assumed. Further inquiry informed him that Monsieur le Maire had never in fact, ever visited Fanine in the night as so many men had before to sate their urges. It baffled and confused Jarvet that Jean Valjean would rescue a child with no relation to him other than a debt he felt he owed the mother. It did not match the image he held within his mind of a convict. A convict never had a pure honest reason behind their motives it was becoming behaviour of a mayor, not a convict. The rouse was up, so why was Valjean still keeping up the act? Javet could not find an answer, his head ached to think on it. 

 

“Wheres the child Cosette?” Firmly demanded Jarvet strolling into the bar.  
“Gone with a gent, don’t know where he went.”  
“Did you catch the fellows name?” said Jarvet imposing, towering over them, truncheon in hand. Jarvet knew the type, the Thenardiers, scum of the earth, it was hard to get an honest answer on a good day.  
As if sensing his anger the Thenardiers shook their heads, backing away from his fierce form. For once Jarvet believed them. Warning them to stay out of trouble he calmly walked away from the establishment, it would not do to lose his temper just yet.  
The doubt set his veins on fire so, for sure it could not be Jean Valjean, but another gentleman, the child’s father perhaps? A con such as Valjean could not be trusted, he would surely break his word. 

 

“Set up a barrier along the road.” Jarvet instructed the men, “Check the papers of everyone for a Monsieur Madeline, and a potential young girl by his side. Apprehend immediately, he may be dangerous.”  
The night progressed slowly after that, a standstill of routine checks, diligently searching each face, and checking every pass. Jarvet could not shake the tense feeling within his bones, an edginess that encompassed him completely like a knife within his ribcage. Twisting and turning every time his eyes scanned the darkness, seeking out Madeline on the road behind, a sinking feeling every time he turned up empty. 

Another routine search of the darkness, before turning to the next gentleman in front of him, searching his document. If not for an owl hooting he would have missed them completely. It was as if god intended it himself for Jarvet to look up at the right moment to notice two dark figures in the distance, one smaller than the other take leave of their vehicle and run down the hillside, letting the waiting carriage pass through Jarvet called another to man his post and quickly picked up the trail. Ridding through the narrow coffin-like streets Jarvet felt trapped, a dreaded feeling settled within him the dark shadows seemed more imposing than usual hiding him in obscurity as he rode through secret side streets. The horse panted beneath him, strained breathe as it carried him through the winding narrow streets. If Jarvet wasn’t so focused on cutting off the intruders he would have noticed the exhausted horse straining its last breathes as he urged it on, the narrow corners becoming more tight and tricky to manoeuvre, risking life and of the beast of burden as it tried to escape the cruel lash of the whip, but all Jarvet could focus on was bringing 24610 to justice. It was not that he did not care for the plight of the dying horse, it just didn’t occur to him.

 

Jarvet dismounted as the horse took its last gasp of life, exhausted it fell over in the mud, dead. No thought was spared for the horse, dying alone, unimportant, forgotten.  
The two men regarded each other silently.  
“Please don’t do this Jarvet.” Said Jean Valjean quietly, holding the hand of the child Cossete.  
“I must.” He said regret obtrusively leaking into his tone “The law is the law, and those who break it must atone.”  
It took all of Jarvet’s willpower to refuse the other mans pleading eyes, eyes that had cherished him for so long, gazing upon him fondly, lovingly and carnally. A desperate need and longing within the depths calling to him.  
Jarvet begged for realise from this choice, to kill him would have been kinder. It was another elaborate ploy he reminded himself. _To what end?_ His secret heart doubted. To escape of course. He reasoned. _If so, why did he look so sincerely hurt?_ He was a fine actor indeed. _What great skill that would require._ He is a convict, not to be trusted, unlawful, liar. _He is Madeline, loving, kind, honourable._ **No.** _?._

The sound of feet carried off from the distance, backup had arrived, and they were advancing quickly. When he doubted everything, there was one thing Jarvet was always certain of, the law. It had never failed him, fair and just, it had saved him from depravity, he would never, could never return there, betraying the law would ruin him thoroughly. If he was to follow Madeline, damnation was all he had in store, not even his traitorous heart could convince him to return to the slum in which he was born. He would condemn 24610 as he would condemn himself. As if sensing a choice had been made Jean Valjean lunged forward, knocking Jarvet off his feet, a quick blow to the head knocked Jarvet unconscious and Valjean made his daring escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment, it would be awesome to hear what y'all think, I really would like to hear if youse think my story is any good, or completely terrible, or what.


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter 6

_9 years later, Paris, 1832._

Jarvet stood above the town, on the highest roof of the police precedent, pacing the edging of the balcony. The darkest of Paris nights looked back at him long winding streets holding many sinful secrets, beneath his feet his city sparkled. His eyes sort out the darkness. There ran fugitives, murders, and heathens, running from god; grace; and respectability, a blight on decency and respectable folk. A bright light caught his attention, shooting across his vision, A shooting star, Illuminating the night sky for a mere moment before distinguishing from sight. Jarvet knew his place in the sky like the lonely dying sky shooting across the sky. A time to live. A time to die. A path we all must take. Order! It was important. The path of the righteous was not to be tampered with like the omnipresent stars. Jarvet had tried to stick by that learnt belief all his life, other days were harder than some. Human weakness! It was disdainful, sinful, he feared damnation, but if he shall fall as Lucifer fell, the flames, the sword, it shall be his finale act. Those who falter, who fall, must pay the price. 

Jarvet had been in Paris for little more than 5 years now, traveling from city to city before ending up on the busy streets of Paris. Jarvet had full command over a station and a city full of criminals to quieten. It was all he had ever dreamed, yet he could not shake the dreadful emptiness within himself a deep dark smog which kept him up most nights pacing the edge of the highest roofs of the police precedent. A watchful eye kept on his city bellow, looking out for disturbances, the rats rising their heads. One such vermin was the dreadful Thenardiers, regretfully it seemed to be his destiny to travel through life side by side with them. As his influence and good fortune grew within Paris so did theirs, commanding full power over paris most treacherous and long standing gang. Day after day Jarvet was called to crime after crime that had their stamp all over it, yet they were always gone too fast to gain substantial proof. Called to another crime Jarvet almost jumped for joy, the gang had been negligent, staying longer than intended, he had arrived in time to pull them off a gentleman and his daughter. 

“Another brawl in the square! Another stink in the air! Was there a witness to this? Well, let him speak to Javert!” The gentleman of question had his arm around his daughter, and face was hidden in shadow. “Monsieur, these streets are not safe. Look upon this fine collection, crawled from underneath a stone. This swarm of worms and maggots could have picked you to the bone! Let these vermin beware, we’ll see that justice is done!”  
With satisfaction Jarvet noticed his team of men has gathered the gang and he had a reputable witness, at last he had them. Jarvet turned to quieten a resisting gang member only to return and find the witness and his daughter gone.   
“Where’s the gentlemen gone? Why on earth did he run?” Jarvet frowned in puzzlement and annoyance. Without a key witnesses he had no case.   
“You will have a job to find him! He's not all he seems to be - And that girl he trails behind him, she’s the child he stole from me!” Said Thenardier loudly and rudely.   
A cold dread filled Jarvet, _Could it be? The tide has finally rushed in? My past caught up to me? The girl by his side, so fair and true, little Cosette, has he done what he promised to do? Jean Valjean, run! Pray that I never catch up with you._  
The men were staring at him he had been quiet for too long, or maybe it was his pale complexion, the dreaded look of death upon his face.   
“Everyone go about your business! Boy, clear this garbage off the street.” He yelled at the milling cityfolk, the boy startled and fell off his horse. Jarvet cursed the boy’s foolishness as he quickly sprang to his feet sporting a cheeky abashed smile and ordering the destitute about before running off and disappearing into the alley.


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter 7

The portraits of known schoolboys were sketched and stuck upon the stark wall, malicious intent evident in expression, far from innocence, known criminals, figureheads of a revolution. “Take note,” they were instructed “these men are dangerous.” A note of agreement reverberated around the stuffy box room, guns were armed and ready. An impassioned speech was sure to follow. Jarvet was ready, he was determined, he would nip the revolution in the bud. Jarvet listened with eager ears, he felt alive, purposeful, meaning long lost was found again, he was ready to serve, the schoolboys will bathe in their own blood.  
“Our plan is simple, but most dangerous and risky. We need to infiltrate the camp, learn all we can.”   
“I will do it,” volunteered Jarvet willingly. “I shall join these people’s heroes, join them where they go, learn their secrets, all there is to know.” The other men breathed a sigh of relief to be free from the pressure of being chosen for what was surely a suicide mission. Jarvet knew the men had families, lovers, or children, he didn’t blame them for stepping back, no one would miss him, he had no one to morn him when he was gone, a perfect candidate for the job ahead. Uniform, In line with his comrades, an officer of the law. Jarvet would not falter, hand on gun, boots polished to perfection he ignored the sombre looks shot his way. Jarvet would see his duty through till the end, one day more! Tomorrow would be the judgement day.

 

The dreaded day had arrived and Jarvet hid invisible obscured by the crowd in plain clothes. The crowd surged when an officer killed one of the rebels, immediately sparking the flames of the revolution. Jarvet secretly infiltrated the rebel forces as they built the barricades, pinning onto his lapel the symbol of the rebellion. It was but a disguise yet Jarvet never felt dirtier in his life, a flashback to his life on the streets, he wished to shed the symbol immediately but could not forsake his duty no matter his personal apprehensions. Jarvet squared his shoulders and shoved down the twisting feeling of wrongness following the moving crowd. The leader was not hard to spot, a blonde haired rebel sporting a red waistcoat, the look of rebellion within his eyes.   
“I will need a report on the strength of the foe.” Declared the rebel.  
Jarvet seized the opportunity to direct their plans “I can find out the truth, I know their ways, I fought their wars, served my time.” This was not a complete lie within his life Jarvet had served them diligently, sacrificing all he had for justice and order. The Rebel leader whispered among his friends before proclaiming an all too eager affirmation to employ Jarvet for the job. A choice between sending a stranger to the front lines or his rebel friends, they would choose Jarvet everytime. 

 

Climbing over the half built barricade Jarvet reported to the chief of police all he knew of the rebel force, reporting number, weapons, and intelligence. The Chief of police nodded in approval patting him on the back and leaning in close to whisper the words of influence Jarvet was required to report back to the rebels.

A congratulations for his bravery and a reminder of the lives Jarvet would be saving, he was sent on his way. Jarvet would not describe himself as a brave man but standing outside the barricades nervous at being shot by rebel fire he found a new form of courage he never knew he possessed. This was the deciding moment, whether he would be accepted back or shot instantly as he made his presence known. He was immediately spotted by the sentry they had in watch and a moment of pure panic passed before he was given the all clear, let in through a poorly constructed side gate.

 

Taking his superiors harsh words for his own Jarvet recounted back the precise words that need to be said. “Listen my friends, I have done as I said, I have been to their lines, I have counted their men, and I will report what I can, better be warned they have army to spare, the danger is real, we will need all our cunning to bring them to heel.”   
“Have faith! If you know what their movements are we’ll spoil their game. There are ways that we people can fight - We shall overcome their power!” The leader proclaimed, adding fuel to the rebels already hungry fires.  
“I have overheard their plans. There will be no attack tonight. They intend to starve you out before they start a proper fight. Concentrate their force, hit us when it's light –“  
“Liar!” Interrupted a small rebel boy.   
Dreaded panic filled Jarvet’s chest. This may very well be the moment of his undoing.   
“Good evening, dear Inspector. Lovely evening, my dear! I know this man, my friends. His name's Inspector Javert! So don't believe a word he says cause none of its true. This only goes to show what little people can do.”  
The rouse was up, and far too soon as well. He had failed. A multitude of guns was pointed his way, Jarvet stared defiantly at the boy behind the trigger, he was not ready to meet his maker yet, he still had a duty to do on this earth.   
“What shall we do with the snake In the grass?” Declared one of the rebels.  
Jarvet turned to face the leader who would decide on his sentence, the judge over his fate, life or death.   
“Tie up this man and take him to the tavern over there! The people will decide your fate Inspector Javert!”  
An old familiar anger rose within him, who were they to judge him when they knew nothing of him? Corrupted schoolboys none the less! Rebels and traitors to all fair and just, he was sick of this childish game!  
“Shoot me now or shoot me later - Every schoolboy to his sport! Death to each and every traitor! I renounce your people's court!”  
“Take this man. Bring him through. There is work we have to do.”

**To be continued........**


	8. Chapter VIII

Chapter 8

 

The rebels were silent as they led Jarvet to the tavern. Revolution on their minds, fear within their hearts, distraction clouded their minds. Foolish inexperience caused them to leave only one guard to hold Jarvet as they sort for rope, seeking his chance Jarvet advanced on the youth wrestling with the rebel he broke free. Jarvet got as far as the door till he was tackled to the ground, subdued by force and knocked over the head. It was then that he lost consciousness. 

 

Jarvet awoke tied to the staircase. The rebels had learnt their lesson from previous mistakes, two guards were staring pervasively at him thoroughly armed with intimidating rifles. The rope tied extra tight around his wrists, cutting into his skin with the pressure, a noose was looped around his neck for extra precaution. Jarvet shifted and winced at the sharp pain in his side.   
“Be quiet” commanded the rebel. The sound of gunshots reached Jarvets ears, a cry of pain was heard.  
One of the rebels ran outside and the other followed abandoning their post.   
Silence.   
Than a second volley of fire was heard. It was sweet music to Jarvets eyes _“I am saved!”_ he thought with hope. _“The rebels do not have me yet!”_

 

Many hours passed and no one came for Jarvet, disappointment nestled itself within his gut. Without sight or word from the rebels Jarvet already instinctively knew the good men of the law had not broken through. Jarvets legs had long gone numb, and he began to make peace with his execution; with a failing hopelessness day turned to night. The rebels once again filled the café, talking in secret code Jarvet could not decipher. Part pride, part stubbornness Jarvet refused to meet their gazes, lost in his own thoughts he ignored all that was said by the traitors until the mention of his name caught his attention. His mind when numb with shock as he looked up, meeting the steady gaze of no one other than Jean Valjean. The effect of his intense gaze was not lessened by the years, Jarvet could not stand to hold it for long less he shatter into a million pathetic pieces. _What was he doing here? Why? How?_ So many questions swam within Jarvets head.  
“Don't shoot! I know him! He's no Soldier.” proclaimed the young boy. Jarvet silently thanked the boy who he had earlier cursed, despite his misgivings he couldn’t bear to see Jean Valjean come to harm by the hands of these rebel scum.   
If Jarvet wasn’t so exhausted he would have spotted them long ago, warning them to be careful, but Jean Valjeans vigilant attention was called to them first, an effect of living a life in avoidance of the law.   
“On the roof!” Valjean shouted grabbing a gun and dispatching a team of snippers with help from the rebels. Jarvet sent a quick prayer out for the men who had lost their life at the hands of the rebels, preparing for his own imminent death.  
“For your presence of mind, for the deed you have done, I will thank you, M'sieur, when our battle is won.” Elegantly articulated the rebel as a leader shall do.  
“Give me no thanks monsieur, there’s is something you can do. Give me the spy Jarvet! Let me take care of him.”  
Jarvet listened with grim satisfaction, it made sense that out of everyone this man shall be his unmaker.  
“Do what you have to do – the man belongs to you.”   
With a knife handed to him Valjean cut the restraints around Jarvets neck and the ones tying him to the stairs, leaving the ones on Jarvets hands less he try to escape or attack anyone again. Jarvet unsteadily rose to his feet, hiding his weakness as he attempted to walk on his disused legs, he would show no vulnerability in front of his executioner. Ignoring the stabbing pains working their way up his limbs Jarvet made his way out of the establishment and out of site of the rebels the knife at his back urging him onwards.  
“We meet again….. How right you should kill me with a knife.” He said breaking the fragile silence that had developed between them.  
Jean Valjean raised the knife and Jarvet looked away, uttering a silent prayer he was prepared to meet his maker.   
“Your life is safe within my hands.” Valjean said the restraints falling to the floor.  
“….don’t understand.”   
“Get out of here.”   
“Valjean take care. I’m warning you.” _The man had gone mad._  
“Get out of here.” He repeated _but what was his game? In sparing my life did Jean Valjean hope to be acquitted of his crimes? He could not be so easily bribed._  
“Once a thief, forever a thief. What you want, you always steal. You would trade your life for mine? Yes, Valjean, you want a deal! Shoot me now for all I care - If you let me go, beware! You'll still answer to Javert.”   
“You are wrong, and always have been wrong. I'm a man, no worse than any man. You are free, and there are no conditions, no bargains, or petitions. There’s nothing I blame you for. You've done your duty, nothing more. If I come out of this alive you’ll find me at Rue de l'Homme-Armé no 7. No doubt our paths will cross again.”  
Jarvet stared at him in wonder, _who is this man? What sort of devil is he? To have caught me in a trap and choose to let me go free? It was his hour at last to put a seal on my fate wipe out the past and wash me clean off the slate! All it would take was a flick of his knife Vengeance was his and he gave me back my life! Was it possible I had misjudged him after all these years? Is he still the Madeline I once knew? The one I still loved?_

Throwing caution and abandon to the wind Jarvet surged forward pressing their lips together, falling back against the wall in the process. Years of held back desires rushed forward, of yearning, loneliness, heartbreak, and isolation all bared raw in a broken tortured deceleration.   
“Jarv-“   
“Shhhh.” Jarvet kissed him like a man lost at sea, drowning and in need of oxygen for nine years, a man who had at long last seen daylight.   
A tear fell from Jean’s eye, a single tear rolling down his cheek cutting its way through the arid and empty landscape. They broke apart as an overbearing sound of a gunshot reminded them of the ongoing revolution.  
“Go.” Urged Jean Valjean one last time.  
At long last Jarvet complied with the order. A mess of confusion, emotions and thoughts he was relieved for the escape. Upon leaving Jean Valjean raised the gun and shot it in the air, abandoning the now useless weapon to the side. 

Jarvet ran, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He ran from Jean Valjean; he ran from himself; he ran with fear. No longer did he trust himself, he feared would turn back, beg the other man to leave with him, go far away where no one knew their name, do what he had denied 9 years earlier, to never be apart again, to love; and forget himself in the process. To forget who he was; what he stood for; what and who they both were. An officer and a convict. Jarvet froze as he caught sight of himself in a murky puddle, dishevelled and bruised he looked like a lunatic disguised as an officer of the law.   
“What has become of me?” he questioned to no one in particular.

 

**To be continued……..**


	9. Chapter IX

Chapter 9

Heart heavy and confused Jarvet made his way to the police barricades, upon returning he was rewarded a medal for his efforts, and a personal congratulations from the chief himself. Jarvet hardly noticed the prized adornment as it was pinned to his lapel, the words of praise background noise to his misery, all Jarvet wished was to escape their penetrating gazes directed his way, fade into obscurity. Thankfully Jarvet was soon assigned another duty, cataloguing the dead from the losing side, even such a grim task Jarvet welcomed just to escape the crowd of celebrating colleagues. 

Jarvet did not expect for the morbid sight to affect him so, he had seen worse in his profession, but the sight of so many boys lying dead, lined up in a row made him sick to his stomach like never before. So young - deemed to such a cruel fate. They had their whole life ahead of them, snatched away with no chance in which to redeem themselves. Schoolboys and nothing more. Jarvet silently walked along the row, each step heavier than the last till he reached the end, the youngest lay there among the rest. One word rang true in Jarvets mind, innocent. The boy did not deserve this fate far too young to lose his life in such a terrible way. With a deep dark despair Jarvet unclipped his own medal of valour presenting it to the boy that had been so brave. Jarvet did not deserve it for taking part in this sinful practice. The bible clearly stated, have nothing to do with a false charge, and do not put an innocent or honest person to death, for I will not acquit the guilty. Was Jarvet guilty of such a sin? A child so young could not be anything less than innocent? What other innocent people had the law condemned? That he had condemned? His mind flashed to Jean Valjean, and Jarvet suddenly felt a self-loathing so deep that he could feel the very darkness oozing from his soul. He could not stay in the room a moment longer. 

 

A banging noise like a heavy weight being scrapped painfully against metal sounded from the sewer momentarily distracting Jarvet from his distress. His duty of investigation called loud and clear and Jarvet followed the noise, to a sewer grate where he was surprised to see Jean Valjean crawl out a weary look upon his weathered face and a boy upon his shoulder. Covered in grime and filth it was not too difficult to imagine Jean Valjean as the convict that he was remembered him to be.  
“Its you Jarvet, I knew you would not wait too long, the faithful servant at his post again, this man has done no wrong, he needs his families care.”  
“I warned you, I would not give in, not be swayed.” He said clinging desperately to his lawful morals in a turbulent sea of doubt.  
“Another hour yet and I’m yours, all debts settles,”  
“The man of mercy comes again, and talks of justice, you know not.”  
“Come now Jarvet, time is short, look down, he’s standing in his grave.”  
Vajean moved towards him, and Jarvet drew his gun holding against Jean Valjeans temple, he would not be weak, Jarvet would fulfil his final duty at last and he would find solid certainty again. “One more step and you die.”  
“Then I die.” Jean Valjean called his bluff as if he was partial to Jarvet hidden heart, he could never truly shoot this man. Jean Valjean met his gaze, pleading for the innocent life bestowed to him. Jarvet cursed himself, even when everything was clear and simple he could have never refused Jean Valjean whence he turned that look upon him. He was indebted to this man, owned body and soul.  
Jarvets hand trembled upon his pistol; Jean Valjean walked past without any resistance. Jarvet willed himself to shoot with every moral fibre in his body, do his duty to the law, bring a convict to justice, but he could not do it, frustrated and enraged with himself he lowered the gun, dropping it in the muck.  
“Take him and go Valjean.”  
He had failed at the final test, without a doubt a choice between Justice and Jean Valjean he would choose Jean every time, he was sinful! Condemned! A failure!  
“Take him, Jean, Go! Before I change my mind!” With the last final word Jean Valjean gathered the boy in his arms and took his leave, taking the corner and disappearing out of sight.  
Jarvet turned away, clutching the railing tight as violent trembles racked up and down his body. He stared out into the river. Jean was gone. He was alone. A failure. A sinner. Jarvet began to move away along the embankment, up the steps, towards a bridge. The turmoil in his brain screamed loudly blocking out any form of coherent thought.  
“Damned if I am owed to a thief. Damned if I yield at the end. I am the law and the law is not mocked! I'll spit right back in his face! There is nothing on earth that we share! It is either Valjean or Javert! How can I allow this man to hold dominion over me? This desperate man that I have hunted... He gave me my life! He gave me Freedom. I should have perished by his hand. It was his right….it was my right to die as well… Instead I live… But I live in hell...”  
Jarvet moved up unto the edge of the bridge, a deep dark whirl pool awaited him.  
“My thoughts fly apart, should this mans crimes be reprieved. Shall his sin be forgiven? I now begin to doubt, I who doubted all those years ago. My heart is cold as stone, yet still I tremble. The world I have known is lost in shadow and grey. Is he from heaven or hell? Does he know? By granting me love and life, he has killed me so.” Jarvet climbed upon the edge, steeling his fate.  
“I stare into the void of a world I cannot hold, I escape from this world, from the hold of Jean Valjean, there is nowhere I can turn. I cannot escape what is inside my very soul, what is carved into my traitorous heart. I may as well confess it now it is my end, I love you Jean Valjean, a convict, a criminal, and a good man. There’s nowhere to turn, no way to go on.” Jarvet took one last look at the world and fell back, his hands reaching, reaching, grasping for something tangible. The stars were black and cold beyond his gaze. The currents engulfed him entirely. Jarvet was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to sincerely thank everyone who has subscribed, commented and Kudosed this fic, honestly did not expect for this fic to get the reception it did and being my first fic posted on ao3 it has really been a nice encouraging welcome to post more future fics on here. So thank you, thank you so much.
> 
> Anyways, I posted a crack!epilogue on my ff.net, so if youre interested check it out as im not posting it here for respectability reasons.  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11121635/10/An-Officer-and-a-Mayor

**Author's Note:**

> Please dont forget to comment, subscribe, and all that. Would really love to hear your thoughts as I worked really hard on this.


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